


The Game Of Strife

by Nostalgia_101



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Romance, Study Group
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-29
Updated: 2013-06-29
Packaged: 2017-12-16 13:51:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/862749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nostalgia_101/pseuds/Nostalgia_101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Pierce brings out a couples board game during a party things get awkward for everyone involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set not long after the season three finale.

Pouring himself another scotch, Jeff glanced around at the paraphernalia adorning Pierce’s bar. “Guys?” he called out, lifting a wooden frame off the wall. “Did we all know that Pierce was in a Gerber Baby competition back in the Jurassic period?”

“Yeah, the Goobiest Gerber,” said Troy, lounging on an oversized leopard-print rug. “It always sounded like he won a disease to me. Like scurvy, or hiccups.”

Shirley snorted from her velour armchair. “Pierce actually came first? Somehow I can’t imagine that man as a sweet, innocent child.”

“No, he didn’t come first,” Jeff smirked. “He didn’t even come third. It’s a participation award.”

“Oh Piercenald,” said Britta, swigging her wine. “You really Britta’d that one.” 

Abed hummed in agreement while concentrating on his pinball game at the back of the room. “Gold star, hashtag ‘you tried’.”

“Retweet. Hashtag ‘LOL’,” giggled Annie next to Britta on the plush crimson sofa.

“Worldwide trend: ‘No one cares about your dumb Twitter conversation skits’,” muttered Troy, freezing when Annie gave him a wounded look. “I mean… how much does Pierce suck, am I right?” he said, forcing out a laugh. “ _Participation_. So stupid.”

Jeff hung the award back on the wall and picked up his scotch, along with a wine for Annie and soda for Shirley. “Speaking of the prehistoric one, how long does it take to find a game?” He handed the girls their drinks and took the last seat on the sofa. “Shouldn’t everything already be here in the ‘entertainment parlor’?”

“He said it was something that he only brought out on special occasions,” Annie replied, scrunching up her nose. “OK, I’m just realizing how creepy that sounds in Pierce language.”

Jeff winced. “This game better not involve his joystick.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Winger,” announced Pierce, emerging through the doorway with a psychedelic-print box in his hands. “This is a game everyone can enjoy – not just the ladies.”

Shirley raised an eyebrow as Pierce placed the box on the table. “You seriously want us to play something called ‘Cop A Feel’?”

“Of course not,” Pierce chuckled, taking a seat in his leather recliner. “It’s called ‘Cop A Feel- _ing_ ’. It was all the rage back when I was a young stud.”

“It’s from your era?” said Jeff. “Does that mean we add up points on an abacus?”

“No, we’ll just notch them up on your forehead since there’s enough room,” Pierce retorted, ignoring the glare being shot his way. “It’s a couples board game,” he explained further. 

“And the night just got more interesting,” said Abed, abandoning his pinball machine to sit next to Troy on the floor. “Cop A Feel-ing,” he read off the box, “the far-out relationship game for cool cats and groovy gals, you dig?”

“Why a couples game though?” asked Annie. “Won’t that be awkward considering none of us are really coupled up?” Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Troy and Britta make a concerted effort not to look at one another and smiled. “Unless anyone’s got something they’d like to _shaaaaare_?”

Britta took another large gulp of wine. “Are you sure you don’t have Yahtzee or something, Pierce?” she said hastily, causing Abed to slowly run a hand over his chin.

“Relax, people,” said Pierce, standing up to head to the bar. “It’s all in good fun. You don’t actually have to be a real couple to play. I remember one night where the maids, the pool boy and I…”

“Did absolutely nothing because no one wants to vomit,” Jeff interrupted, leaning forward to grab the game. “Let’s just get rid of the box before Pandora or Schrodinger’s cat or whatever leaps out to bite us all on the ass.”

“I don’t get it,” said Troy “Is that one of the cool cats?”

“Maybe we _should_ just quit while we’re ahead,” said Shirley. “It is starting to get late and some of us have…” she fidgeted with the hem of her sweater, “… things to do in the morning.”

“No! Come on, stay!” Pierce exclaimed abruptly, nearly popping the champagne cork into his face. “This is supposed to be an end of summer school celebration, not a wimps wimping out… wimp-erbration.” He paused when he saw Jeff staring at him. “What?”

“Oh nothing,” stated Jeff. “Just checking to see if you have a vocabulary award up there too.”

“Don’t be mean,” Annie scolded, hitting his arm. “Pierce is right, we should be celebrating our achievements. Plus this wine tastes amazing and my butt feels like I’m sitting on a cloud, so I’m pretty content right now,” she grinned.

Jeff couldn’t help smiling back. “Is content a code word for drunk?” he teased.

“No,” she replied, emphasizing her point by sloshing her glass around, spilling wine on her skirt. “… Shut up.”

“I vote we play,” said Abed, taking the box from Jeff. “It could be an eye-opening experience for our group. And I don’t have anymore quarters left for the pinball machine.”

Britta threw an accusatory look at Pierce. “I still can’t believe you make people pay to have fun.”

“What am I? A nerd charity center?” replied Pierce. “No wonder you never have two dimes to rub together, Blondie, you’re too much of a soft touch for your own good.”

Sensing an argument brewing, Troy leapt up and opened the lid of the box. “Game time it is! OK, we’ve got some question cards, some tokens, a board and…” he gingerly picked up an item between two fingertips. “A pair of fluffy red handcuffs.”

“No way,” sputtered Shirley, folding her arms. “I am one thousand per cent done with this foolishness already.”

“Ahhh!” Annie cried, covering her eyes. “Dildopolis flashbacks!”

“You can untwist all your panties, everyone, the cuffs aren’t part of the game. They’re from my own personal collection.” Pierce chuckled fondly. “I thought I lost those bad boys.”

“Yeah, ‘cause that makes everything less gross and tainted in nightmares,” said Troy, flinging the offending item towards the elderly man. Wiping his hands on his shirt, he waited for Abed to finish scanning the instructions. “What do we need to do, dude?”

“The aim is to pair-up and answer questions to earn ‘primo’ points and move forward on the board,” Abed replied. “Whoever reaches make-out ridge first is ‘outta sight’.”

“Well,” Troy mused, eyes wandering towards the sofa. “I guess I should pair up with Britta then because Shirley’s like a …”

Shirley narrowed her eyes. “If you say ‘mom’ I’m going to risk my own personal hygiene and handcuff you to the pool table.”

“… Really hot not-at-all motherly person to me that I think is awesome,” he rambled. 

“This is fun,” grinned Annie. “What’s your excuse for me?”

Troy scoffed. “As if you won’t go with Jeff. You two are like magnets when it comes to stuff like this.”

Jeff and Annie snuck a look at one another and laughed. “Stuff like what?” said Jeff. “Playing ancient board games? It doesn’t exactly scream ‘regular occurrence’ to me.”

“Me either,” agreed Annie. “And who’s to say I won’t pick Abed instead?” she added, missing the way the smirk slid off Jeff’s face. 

Troy shrugged. “Hashtag, ‘no surprise there either’.”

“What are you on about? Why is your tone all judge-y?”

“It’s not, OK, don’t worry about it,” Troy sighed. “This is turning into a weird Pokémon battle. I choose Britta, end of story.”

“Hey, what if I want to be the one who deals the cards?” Britta protested. “I can be a Poker Mom too you know!”

“So you don’t want to go with me?”

“… I never said _that_.”

“I still need a game date,” Pierce reminded her. “I’ll have to warn you, though, you’re number four on my list right now, sour face.”

Britta screwed up her mouth. “Troy it is.”

“Hey,” Jeff murmured next to Annie’s ear. “You weren’t serious about the whole Abed thing were you?”

“Why?” smiled Annie coyly. “Are you worried?”

“Pfft, no,” he scoffed. “I just thought you’d want to be on the winning team.”

“And that involves you does it?”

“Well you can’t spell Winger without ‘win’ now can you?”

“Wow, I hope you’ve used that in the courtroom before.” She bit back a laugh at his exasperation. “OK, OK, you’re my cool cat.”

Abed glanced between Shirley and Pierce. “Threesome? Figuratively speaking of course.”

Shirley shook her head. “I’ll just be in charge of keeping everyone in line on account of never wanting to associate my name in a threesome of any kind with Pierce.” She fluffed her hair as she pondered her new role. “Judge Shirley has a nice ring to it anyway don’t you think?”

“Looks like it’s you and me then, Pierce,” said Abed. 

“Welcome to the team, number three,” Pierce replied, shaking his hand.

* * *

Steadying her wine glass on the floor, Annie picked up a question card from the pile, breathing a sigh of relief. “OK, this one’s much less embarrassing.”

“I don’t know,” said Jeff. “Playing ‘Dance groove or Kama Sutra move?’ _was_ pretty enlightening.”

“You’re not the one who thought The Underdog Backstreet _wasn’t_ a dance.”

Jeff smirked. “Yeah, how exactly did you think that…”

“ _Moving on_!” Annie interrupted, holding up her card. “Our next question is: ‘Name three of the grooviest things about your partner’.”

“Her dirty mind for starters.”

“Jeff! Be sensible.”

“I am!” He laughingly dodged her shoulder punch. “OK, fine. Your _pure_ mind and your not-so-pure Santa outfit.”

Annie buried her face in her hands. “Oh my God.”

Clearing her throat, Shirley banged her empty glass on the table like a gavel. “Judge Shirley says stop mucking around being ‘cute’ and answer the question already.”

“Hey, how come we’re on our third warning now and no one else has got one?” Jeff complained.

“Because the rest of us aren’t trying to dry-hump each other with words,” said Pierce, earning a groan of disgust from most of the group. “What? It’s true.”

“What’s true is that you’re off your rocker,” said Jeff.

Abed raised his hand. “My better half may have a point, Jeff.”

“I do?” asked Troy.

“He means me, genius,” said Pierce with a proud smile. “Ay-bed, you’ve just been bumped up to number two on my list.” He gave Annie a conciliatory glance. “Rough luck, kiddo.”

“Please don’t let me be where I think I am,” Shirley prayed under her breath, shuddering when Pierce winked.

Jeff leant back into the sofa cushion and frowned. “I’m sorry, can we revisit the point about Pierce having a point? Because that doesn’t really compute.” 

“Oh don’t act all surprised,” said Britta, her mouth curling up into a smirk. “You know it’s true.” She pointed uncoordinatedly between Jeff and Annie. “Both of you.”

“We _all_ banter with each other,” countered Jeff. “I don’t see why Annie and I are being singled out.”

“Exactly!” said Annie. “So check yourself before you wreck yourself, yo!” She held up her hand to Jeff for a high five, but he just stared quizzically at her. “It felt like a ‘yo’ moment,” she mumbled. “… Did I mention this wine is really good?”

“You can claim the banter thing all you like, but it’s always laced with a little something more with you guys,” Britta added.

“She’s right,” said Troy. “You can’t compare, like, I don’t know, me and Shirley to the way you two act around each other.” He flinched when he heard the makeshift gavel slam on the table.

“Someone’s ass is out of order,” said Shirley, pressing her lips together in annoyance. “ _Again_.”

“Chang and I had a nice connection once,” Pierce mused. “Like that Schwarzenegger movie with the short guy.”

“Twins,” Abed nodded.

“No, I think it was set in a kindergarten…”

“For the love of…” Jeff scrubbed a hand over his face, taking a deep breath. “Can we just go back to guessing Kama Sutra moves? Because that was less painful.”

Annie waved the question card in the air. “Let’s just finish this one and move on. Jeff, you go first. What are the three _grooviest_ things about me?” She flashed him a grin.

Jeff drained the last of his scotch, feeling self-conscious under everyone’s gaze. “Groovy things, huh?” He stood up to walk over to the bar, keeping his back towards his friends. “Well, you’re smart. You’re friendly… and, uh, you have nice hair.” 

“Oh.” Shoulders slumping, Annie managed to keep the smile on her face. “Thanks. Very detailed.” She slipped the card back under the pile. “Well I guess your ‘groovy’ qualities would be that you’re well-dressed, you’re tall… and you also have nice hair.”

“Thank you,” said Jeff with a strained smile. “Also very detailed.”

“Get a room!” jeered Pierce, earning a scowl from Jeff. “No seriously, get another room away from here before you bore us all to death with your answers,” he retorted.

“We’ll just let Shirley decide that shall we?”

“You can move one space,” Shirley replied.

Jeff and Annie baulked at her. “ _What_?”

“You’re lucky you’re getting that far! Friendly, tall and well-dressed?” she scoffed. “You may as well be describing Big Bird going to prom.”

“Why are you letting them move at all then?” Britta protested.

“Because they do both have nice hair,” Shirley conceded. “Jeff’s even sprouting one or two sexy gray wisps on the side like George Clooney,” she cooed.

Forgoing all notions of pouring a small drink, Jeff threw away the lid and took a giant swig from the bottle instead. “I think I liked it better when I was Big Bird.”

* * *

Troy sat crossed-legged on the rug, deep in thought. “I would just wear normal clothes and a backpack,” he finally replied, popping a Cheeto into his mouth.

“That doesn’t sound very exciting for a Halloween costume,” said Shirley. “What would Britta’s half of the couple’s costume be?”

“Anything at all, that’s the awesome part,” said Troy. 

Annie grabbed the wine bottle to fill up her glass. “I don’t get it.”

“OK, so you know how Britta usually dresses up as confusing things like an armadillo, and people are all, ‘Hey, nice rock costume’?”

“In my defense I _was_ curled up most of the night,” said Britta, yanking the bottle from Annie to refill her own cup. “The Geology club kept asking me to join them,” she added sadly.

“Don’t forget the _stoner_ club,” teased Jeff.

“And the math geeks,” quipped Pierce.

“What?”

“… Aren’t we just naming dumb clubs?”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Troy continued, “I’d just shove heaps of supplies into my backpack. So if she dresses up as a teddy bear and people think she’s an Ewok or something, I could just pull out a wig and pretend to be Princess Leia so we’d match.” 

“Aww!” said Shirley, with Annie joining in. “You can definitely move four spaces on the board.”

Troy grinned at Britta, who tried to match his enthusiasm. “To infinity and beyond!” she cheered weakly, pumping the air with her fist. She let her hand drop when Abed made a distressed whining sound. “Wrong reference, huh?”

“Help her Abed-Wan Kenobi,” Jeff drawled. “You’re her only hope.”

* * *

Pierce adjusted his glasses to get a better look at his card. “Lay it on me,” he read. “What’s something not-so-keen-o about your partner-ino?” He chuckled heartily. “Good luck finding a flaw, Ay-bed.”

“You wear too much aftershave,” Abed instantly replied.

“Hey!”

“Eau De Mothballs by Calvin Klein, right?” said Jeff. 

“Well at least I attempt to smell like an adult,” Pierce retorted, glaring at Abed. “When’s the last time you stank of something other than Batman bubble bath?”

“Um, I’m sorry, I don’t see the problem,” said Troy folding his arms. “He protects the city from crime _and_ grime one soapsud at a time. What’s not to like?”

“It’s OK, Troy, I probably shouldn’t have started with something so personal,” said Abed, grabbing a handful of M&Ms. “I’ll try again.”

“Thank you,” said Pierce.

Abed tossed the candy into his mouth. “Your marriage track record is like the Police Academy movies. The first few were harmless fun but by the seventh one you were just in it for the sadistic familiarity and funny sound effects.” He innocently scooped up more M&Ms as the room fell silent. 

“Abed!” gasped Annie, casting a wary look towards Pierce. “The line? Hashtag, ‘you just crossed it’.”

“I did?”

“I think you peed on it too,” Britta murmured into her wine glass.

“It was just an observation,” said Abed. “Right Pierce?”

With a sour face to rival Britta’s, Pierce yanked the bowl of candy away from Abed. “Number. Five. On. The. List,” he said through gritted teeth. “Congrats on your upgrade,” he added to Britta and Troy.

“What? Why am I still last on your stupid list!” Jeff exclaimed, before catching himself. “… Why the hell am I so outraged?”

Shirley banged her gavel to get everyone back on track. “Next time you all better damn listen to me when I suggest we play Chutes and Ladders,” she warned. 

* * *

Passing his half-empty bottle of scotch to Annie to hold, Jeff took a card from the board and silently read it. “Huh…” Pursing his lips, he tucked it into his pocket. “I’m going to veto that one.”

“Why?” said Annie. “What did it say?”

“I can’t tell you or that would contradict the purpose of the veto.”

“Veto-schmeeto,” she replied, shoving the bottle back at him. “I want to see!”

“Compelling as that argument is… No.”

Scooting closer on the sofa, Annie bit her bottom lip and glimpsed up at him through her lashes coquettishly.

“Oh no you don’t,” Jeff protested, putting a hand over her face and gently shoving her away. “I distinctly remember banning those looks last month after I somehow ended up performing a puppet show with you on Troy and Abed in the Morning.”

“The resurrection of Horsebot 3000,” Troy sighed happily. “Good times.”

“This look isn’t Disney,” argued Annie, hiding a smile. “It’s Pixar.”

Jeff smirked. “Disney adjacent, overruled.”

“ _Je-ff_ , just show me the card!” Lunging forward, she tried to slip a hand into his pocket. “Come on, what does it say?” she laughed, as Jeff squirmed around. “Does it involve singing again? Because I promise I won’t giggle this time.”

“I make no such promise,” Britta quipped. “You murdered that last song more than me and Jack the Ripper combined.” 

“We don’t need the card, trust me,” said Jeff, batting Annie’s hands away. “It’s the Jim Belushi of questions. In fact, Belushi saw it, laughed at it, used the laugh track from ‘According to Jim’ to really drive his point home, and then threw it away. That’s how lame it is.” He caught a triumphant spark in Annie’s eyes. “Why are you… _dammit_ , Annie!”

Annie leapt up from the sofa; card in hand after a sneaky manoeuvre. “That’s what you get for putting more effort into your excessive jokes than the actual task,” she gloated, poking out her tongue.

“What does it say?” queried Abed. “And more importantly, was it worth all of this set-up?”

Jeff guiltily lay into the scotch as he observed the glee quickly fade from Annie’s face. “You know what?” said Annie, giving Jeff a hurt look before tucking the card into her blouse. “Maybe I don’t want this question either. How’d you like _them_ Belushis?” She affected a faux-pleasant tone. “In vino veritas,” she sang out, raising her glass to the ceiling. “In _veto_ veritas too apparently…”

“Annie,” Jeff began.

“Britta, pass me the wine please,” she said, ignoring him.

Cautiously offering her friend the near-empty bottle, Britta tottered over to the bar to find what else was on offer. “So, guess it’s mine and Troy’s turn again?”

“Hell yeah it is!” Troy whooped in excitement. “We are _owning_ right now. Winning this thing like winners. We should totally get matching hats that say ‘Best Team Ever’. No, wait, that’s lame.” His eyes widened. “Ooh, matching fluffy towels with our initials sewn into them. _Classy_.”

“Yeah, go team,” Britta chuckled nervously, fumbling around with a corkscrew. “With the hats and the towels and the perfect answers to things that are just waiting to be ruined by a professional ruiner and _holy crap why won’t this alcohol open_?!” 

“It’s Pierce’s weird novelty corkscrew,” explained Troy, leaping up to assist her. “There’s a trick to it. You just have to lift the lady’s leg and…”

“I’ve got it, Troy,” Britta yelped, ducking her head shamefully when he ground to a halt. “Why don’t you go choose a card instead?”

“… OK, sure.”

“We just have to move Jeff and Annie’s token back one space first for failing to answer,” Shirley replied apologetically. “Sorry, pumpkins. They’re the rules.”

“One step forward, one step back,” Annie mused, nudging the small silver peace sign down the board. “Now that’s a familiar tune.”

“Well I wouldn’t want to try sing it now would I?” sighed Jeff.

“I’m bored,” said a gruff voice. “When do we get to see what the question was?”

“On the twelfth of _shut up, Pierce_.”

_Continued…_


	2. Chapter 2

After the group had suffered through playing a few more tense and uncomfortable rounds, Shirley noticed the card at the top of the pile was a different color. “What does the orange one mean, Pierce?”

“That we can finally unhook the old ball and chain,” he eagerly replied.

Troy looked the old man up and down with distaste. “Pierce, we don’t really want to know what you use those cuffs for, OK man?”

“I think he means we don’t have to stay with the same partners, Troy,” said Annie, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “Good news at last.”

“It’s true,” confirmed Shirley, reading the underside of the card before turning it around to show everyone. “The swinging sixties have arrived… God help us all.”

“Whatever. Just don’t expect me to throw my keys into a bowl,” said Jeff.

Annie pulled a face. “ _Don’t expememekeyinnobow_ ,” she blabbered in a mocking voice. “That was you just now,” she added, glaring at Jeff.

“Well thanks, Nancy Drew, I wouldn’t have solved that mystery on my own.”

Britta plucked the card from Shirley’s hand to read, her face becoming flushed with indignation. “Gals move your cutie patooties once space to the left? Excuse me, but does no one else care that the men aren’t being gender-slapped by this dumb game? It’s criminal.”

“It’s just a card, Britta,” said Pierce.

“Just a card?” she protested. “I’ll give you ‘just a card’, buddy.” Grunting, she tried to rip it in half but the laminated covering was proving far too resilient.

“Britta…” said Troy.

“I got this, Troy,” she replied, attempting to tear into it with her teeth. “Oh come on, what’s this made out of? Steel?”

“… Britta.”

“ _What_?”

Startled, Troy held up his hands in surrender. “I was just going to say that if it bugged you so much I could move instead.”

“Oh.” She inelegantly scraped away a shred of plastic stuck to her tongue. “… Thanks.”

“That would make two of us lady-men then,” Pierce said glumly. “I just lost a thumb war with Ay-bed.”

“I thought you already lost that war to arthritis?” remarked Jeff.

“Wait a minute,” said Britta. “If Troy moves, that means Pierce will be with me.” She quickly flung the card across the room. “I change my mind. It would be a crime if I _didn’t_ move.”

“Manslaughter?” proposed Abed.

“No, first degree murder. Because I _will_ mean it.”

“Let’s get on with things shall we?” said Shirley, conducting them with her pretzel. “Pierce you’re with Troy, Britta you’re with Jeff and Annie you’re with Abed. Get your cutie patooties moving.”

Once the group were seated in their new pairs, Troy chose a card from the pile and read it aloud. “Bummer alert! What topic makes you space out when your partner’s lip flappin’ while the boob tube’s on?” He slowly tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy. “OK, first question: is this about sex? And second question: is it also about outer space? Because you know how I feel about Pluto, guys,” he said, voice wobbling. “ _The little dude never stood a chance_.”

Jeff sighed. “Please don’t turn this into another white crayon saga.”

“Nobody cares about the white crayon either, Jeff,” Troy stressed. “ _Nobody_! It just sits there. Like the last wax kid getting picked in crayon gym class.”

“Can I make a suggestion?” said Shirley, handing Troy a tissue from her purse so he could dab his eyes. “How about I choose the cards and everyone can answer the same question? Then maybe we can finish this game before sunrise.” The group mumbled their agreement, so Shirley reached across the board. “Ooh, this one looks interesting and not at all space related,” she loudly enthused. “It says, ‘How would you react if you were with your partner and you ran into their ex?”

“See, I get that one because it’s not in Austin Powers language,” said Troy.

Pierce frowned, holding out his hand to have a look. “I don’t remember…”

“A lot of things most probably,” Shirley hastily interrupted, snatching it out of his grasp. ‘Who wants to go first?”

“I would,” Jeff offered, gesturing with his scotch, “but there’s too many contenders to choose from. Can I have a spinning wheel to decide?”

“Like you can talk, jerk,” Britta interjected. “I’d use a spinning wheel too but you wouldn’t remember half their names.”

“I’m sorry. I know names are important to you.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Let’s see, there was Subway, Blade, the Ass-Crack Bandit…”

Troy gasped. “You got with the _Ass-Crack Bandit_?”

“It was a one-off fling after Annie blew his cover last year!” cried Britta, throwing a pillow at Jeff to make him stop laughing. “We were both feeling down. He said I had a cute armadillo butt… I was just happy he knew what my costume was.”

“Butt stuff,” fumed Troy, shoving more Cheetos into his mouth. “I was cracking on asses way before that ass-crack ever did.”

“Abed! Annie!” said Shirley over-enthusiastically. “How about we get some answers from you two?”

“Umm,” mused Annie, resting her head on the back of the sofa. “If I ran into one of Abed’s exes I would say… Hi Hilda, how’s virtual life treating you?” She winced with a sudden thought. “Have the police found any suspects for your parents’ murders yet?” she trailed off awkwardly.

Abed blinked at her. “What?”

“Your turn!”

“Abed, I’ve got three tips for you,” Jeff called out, counting them off on his fingers. “Hey, hello, howdy. The universal call of the tiny-nippled hippie.”

“Oh really?” Annie challenged. “Well at least I didn’t hook up with my friend’s step-daughter ten seconds after I first met her!”

“That was a lifetime ago, Annie.”

“Yeah, well so was Vaughn.”

“What about when Jeff and Britta banged?” suggested Pierce, receiving evil glares. “Well it’s more recent isn’t it? Geez, you try and lift the mood…”

Abed fished around in his pocket for a metal case. “Annie’s a bit light in the ex department, but I know of someone from this game’s era she might like on her list.” He took out a candy cigarette and gave Annie a lazy grin. “Don Draper at your…”

“No!” Jeff barked, snapping Annie from her sudden trance. “I mean, uh,” he stammered, “that’s not really answering the question.”

“At least he didn’t veto,” Annie retorted.

“Tweeting it,” said Abed, glancing between his two friends while biting into the stick of candy. “Hashtag, ‘burn’.”

Annie keenly pointed at him. “Worldwide trend, ‘Jeff can suck it’.”

“Careful, you’ll get put into Twitter jail again.”

“Tweeting _that_.”

Troy let out a strangled yelp, making Annie jump. “Would you just quit it already! Tweeting things is mine and Abed’s thing! You can’t just make our thing your thing, it’s not how things work!”

“Troy, calm down,” said Annie in concern. “We’re just messing around. I’m not trying to take Twitter away from you.”

“Well you could have fooled me,” he muttered, throwing Abed a hurt look.

“I could try a Twitter thing with you?” Britta offered, striving to cheer him up. “Hi Internet! These are Troy and Britta’s tweets you can retweet and favorite and put on the web and… stuff. Hashtag ‘tweeting is awesome and dope and insert something about Inspector Spacetime here’.” She grinned triumphantly.

“That’s way more than one hundred and forty characters,” Troy sullenly replied.

Britta’s smile faltered. “Why are you being a jag? I’m just trying to help.”

“Like I’ve been trying to help _you_ tonight?” he reminded her. “It’s not nice feeling like the white crayon, is it?”

“Jesus, enough with the crayon already!” said Jeff. “This isn’t a ‘very special’ episode of Sesame Street.”

“You’d know, Big Bird,” shrugged Annie.

“Wait a minute,” said Pierce, the cogs in his mind slowly twisting to life. “I always thought the Ass-Crack Bandit was Leonard.”

“Ugh! I have _some_ standards you know!” Britta gagged. “We told you fifty times, the Ass-Crack Bandit was…”

“Sweet Lord, I can’t take this anymore!” Shirley suddenly yelled out. “I broke a stripper’s car antenna and now I’m going straight to hell!” She clutched her purse in despair as everyone fell deathly silent.

“Are we playing match the celebrity to their memoir title?” asked Jeff, trying to ease the tension. “Because you’re going to have to give us more clues.”

“Shirley?” said Annie, sympathetically rubbing her friend’s arm. “I know I’ve had a lot of alcohol this evening, but I definitely heard the words ‘stripper’ and ‘antenna’ in there, right?”

Lowering her head, Shirley nodded unhappily. “I’m a terrible person. I don’t deserve to be a judge when I’ve committed my own crime.”

“You’re not a real judge, I wouldn’t worry,” said Abed, earning a reproachful look from Annie.

“That’s so weird you’ve told us that when we’re talking about exes,” said Troy. “Isn’t Andre’s ex a stripper?” He sat back in amazement. “What are the odds, man?”

Jeff shared a moment of realization with Annie. “You made that last question up, didn’t you, Shirley?” he gently queried his friend.

“Guilty as charged.” Shirley fiddled with the zip on her bag. “I just thought that if I asked about everyone else’s experiences there might have been a reaction more crazy than mine. And then I would’ve felt a little less awful.”

“I _knew_ I hadn’t heard that question before,” said Pierce. “Stick that in your memory loss joke pipe and smoke it!”

“Pierce,” warned Jeff.

“Right, of course.” He composed himself. “Please tell us more about your vandalism, Shirley. Or even just the sexy stripper, we’re not fussy.”

“It was a couple of days ago,” Shirley began. “Andre and I were taking Ben for a walk before dinner when we bumped into My Little Porn-y.”

Annie giggled. “ _Shirley_! I can’t believe you call her that.”

“Oh no, that’s her actual stage name,” Shirley replied, pursing her lips in displeasure. “Trust me, the names I’ve got for her aren’t fit for a good Christian woman to repeat.”

“So what happened to lead to the antenna breakage?” asked Britta, smiling when a thought occurred on her. “Wow, you pulled that on Slater too. I’ve got to hand it to you, Shirley. You have a really specific brand of justice.”

“There might be a superhero comic in your future,” said Abed.

Troy’s eyes lit up. “Antenna Woman!”

“Captain Car-merica.”

“Ooh, Snap-It Shirley, like Wreck-It Ralph!”

“Tweeting it for real,” said Abed. He took out his phone, missing the pleased smile flicker across Troy’s face.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Jeff prompted, “back to My Little Porn-y’s friendship not being magic.”

Shirley adjusted her cardigan. “Well, I kept my cool when I found out she’d moved into a house only a few blocks from ours. And I kept my cool when she deliberately kept calling me ‘Shelly’ while making eyes at my husband.” Her voice became cold. “But all my goodwill disappeared when she asked how often I babysit my grandson.”

“Oh no she didn’t,” gasped Jeff.

“Oh she did. And she knew she was pressing my buttons too.” Shirley clenched her fists. “It’s a uterus, not a crypt!”

“So you busted her car right then and there?” asked Troy. “Dude, that is badass.”

“Not quite,” said Shirley. “I told Andre that Ben dropped one of his toys, then I looped back around and did it. But now the guilt’s eating away at me because I am a better person than this.” She felt tears well up in her eyes. “I _know_ I’m a better person than this.”

Annie enveloped her in a hug. “You’re allowed to make mistakes every once in a while. And this is coming from someone who redefined the word anal-retentive.”

“Annie’s right,” agreed Jeff. “If you’re feeling that guilty I’m sure there’s something you can do about it. Maybe she needs a new pair of rhinestone-encrusted chaps?”

“I already bought a replacement antenna,” admitted Shirley. “That’s why I need to be up early tomorrow morning to leave it anonymously on her doorstep. I figured she’d be sleeping like most… night-shift workers do.”

“See?” said Troy. “You’ll earn your God points back in no time. And just for the record, that stripper lady must be blinded by body glitter because you’re way too hot to be a grandma.” Shirley smiled at him. “Plus you still have all your own teeth and don’t hit people with homemade switches.” He paused. “I should really go visit my nanna…”

“Are you going to be OK, Shirley?” said Britta.

“I will be,” she replied. “It was just a relief to get things off my chest, so thank you. I didn’t mean to bring down the mood and ruin game night, though.”

“Don’t worry,” said Annie ruefully. “I think we all played a part in that. Tonight got a little bit out of hand.”

“You know what this calls for,” said Abed, pointing finger guns at Jeff. “A Winger speech to bring us home.”

Jeff choked on a gulp of his drink. “What?”

“It’s Jeff o’clock. Time to take the stand.”

“Are you sure, Abed?” he said, wiping spilt alcohol from his chin. “Because you know what you’re like with clocks.”

“I’ve gone digital. Let’s do this thing.”

“Right.” Jeff sat up as straight as he could manage, drumming his fingertips on the scotch bottle. “Um… Well, say life gives you lemons. But you’re thinking, ‘What if I like lemons, you little punk? What if I wanna make a big-ass lemon meringue pie right this second? Where’s your God now?’ _Then_ life…”

“Jeff?” Pierce interrupted. “Mind if I give this one a try?”

Blinking at him in intrigue, Jeff opened his arms in a welcoming motion. “Be my guest.”

The group curiously turned towards Pierce as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Now, Winger may be a drunk with a disturbing lemon fetish…”

“Excuse me?”

“… But he’s right about one thing. The universe tends to throw a bunch of crap at you when you least expect it. Maybe it’s lemons, maybe it’s moral dilemmas or maybe it’s multiple divorces.” He shrugged one shoulder. “So be it. Because you know what? It’s not always about winning or losing – sometimes it’s just about participation.”

A thought suddenly dawned on Jeff. “You overheard us talking about your Gerber Baby award before, didn’t you?” he said sheepishly, as the others cottoned on.

“Every word of it,” Pierce replied. “But I’m not mad. I’m damn proud of that award. Because the day I stop participating in life, is the day I cease to exist in this body. And I’m not ready to be vaporized into a preservation pod just yet.”

“Aww,” Annie and Shirley chimed in. 

“Nice job,” Jeff acknowledged. “Disturbing Laser Lotus ending and all.”

“Agreed,” said Abed, earning Pierce’s attention. “On a scale of ‘uplifting’ to ‘crazy Wonka boat ride’, Jeff was on his way to golden ticket territory.”

“Hey, you try being on all the time.”

“But you really stepped up to the plate,” Abed continued, ignoring Jeff’s grumbling. “This officially makes you third on my emergency speech-makers list.”

Fighting back a smile, Pierce cleared his throat. “Duly noted, Ay-bed.”

Troy rested his elbow on the coffee table. “I guess in the spirit of things, that means everybody won the game tonight?”

“I guess so,” said Shirley. “It’s probably for the best anyway since you and Britta were kicking everyone’s behinds.”

“HA-HA! YES! IN ALL YOUR FACES!” Troy whooped, accidentally knocking the board pieces everywhere. “… I’ll clean that up.”

“We were still in the lead?” said Britta in surprise. “I thought that was just a fluke before.”

Troy smiled at her as he picked up some fallen cards. “Told you we make a good team. Like Hawkeye and Black Widow. Garfield and lasagna. Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen…” he frowned suddenly. “I can’t remember where I was going with this.”

“What about The Inspector and Constable Reggie?” Abed suggested, concentrating on building a pretzel tower on top of his soda can. “We haven’t had much time to go on adventures together lately anyway. It makes sense.”

“Dude, no it doesn’t,” Troy replied in faint surprise. “You know that’s you and me. Always.” He braced one hand to his chest and held the other out for a high-five.

Placing another pretzel on the pile, Abed looked up at his friend. “Cool,” he said, returning the gesture. “Cool, cool, cool.”

“Those are pretty good teams,” Britta conceded to Troy, while playing with the novelty corkscrew. “It’s just, I haven’t really been in a winning team before, y’know? I usually pick ones that aren’t good for me, or aren’t compatible. Or teams I self-sabotage because I think I’m better off alone.”

“So… what’s it like being in this team?” asked Troy cautiously.

“It’s different,” Britta admitted. “ _Nice_ , different.” She knelt down on the floor next to him and helped pick up the scattered tokens. “Think I might stay on it for a while,” she said, giving him a playful shove, “ _Hawkeye_.”

“Awesome,” Troy grinned, nudging her shoulder, “Black Widow.”

“Britta, you do realize you’re not comparing yourselves to a bird and a spider, right?” said Jeff.

“Uh, duh-doy. Even I’ve seen The Avengers,” she gloated. “So how about you shut your lemon meringue pie hole, pointy-face.”

Troy clutched his stomach. “Man, all this lasagna and pie talk is making me hungry.”

“How? You just ate your weight in Cheetos,” said Annie incredulously.

“What’s your point? Hold up, are you calling me fat?”

Stretching out his legs, Pierce slowly stood from his armchair. “There should be heaps of leftovers in the kitchen if anyone wants a snack. Just don’t ask me how to operate the microwave; that thing’s harder to work out than a woman. Am I right, ladies?” he chuckled, flinching when Shirley swung her purse at him.

“I can show you how to use it, Pierce,” said Abed. “As long as you have buttered noodles.”

“Good luck with that,” scoffed Troy. “I tried to show him how to set the time on his phone once and nearly punched my _own_ face.”

“I’m sure it’ll be OK. Or like an episode of The Odd Couple, I’m down with either.”

Rummaging around in his pockets, Pierce found a few loose quarters and grabbed Abed’s hand, placing them into his palm. “Here, Ay-bed…” he said awkwardly. “May as well play some pinball later while you’re waiting for your weird noodles.”

“Pierce,” said Britta in astonishment. “Did we just witness a good deed?”

“Your mom’s a good deed,” he said gruffly, stalking towards the door. “Are you people coming or what?”

As the group began to be ushered out, Jeff gently grasped Annie’s arm. “Can you hang back for a sec?” She raised an eyebrow. “Please?” he added. “Unless you really want to go and witness round eighty-five of Pierce versus technology.”

Annie hesitated before grudgingly perching on the arm of the sofa. “I’m not sure I want to witness what’s about to happen here either to be honest.”

“Can we just… What the hell?” Jeff and Annie cringed as the room suddenly dimmed and sparkly patterns of light danced across the walls. 

“Mood lighting,” Pierce winked, pointing up at the colorful disco ball in the room.

“Pierce, we don’t need mood lighting,” Annie sighed, rubbing her forehead. “We need normal, non-hallucinogenic lighting.”

“Did someone say Moonlighting?” asked Abed, popping his head around the door. “If this is a David and Maddie moment, I’m going to need popcorn instead of noodles.”

“No popcorn, no lighting!” said Jeff. “Out, the both of you. Or I _will_ go crazy Wonka boat ride in here.”

“Fine,” said Pierce. “Should I leave the handcuffs or…”

“Goodbye, Pierce!”

When the boys finally retreated down the hall, Jeff turned towards Annie, who was grimacing. “Are you OK?”

She shook her head. “I feel kind of woozy. On the plus side, now I know what it’s like to live inside a lava lamp.”

“There’s a plus side?”

“Just make yourself useful and fix the lights would you?” She slunk off the sofa and onto the leopard-print rug to lie down on her back. “I’m going to have a rest on this zoo animal.”

Approaching the light switch, Jeff scoffed. “That’d be right.”

“What?”

“The man can’t work a microwave but he’s got approximately one thousand settings for his disco room of pain.” In confusion, Jeff prodded the nearest button on the panel, causing the colors to spin even faster.

“Ugh, we want the opposite of that,” groaned Annie.

“No? Really?” He hit a few more buttons, finally returning the room to a normal dimmer-light setting… but accompanied by a Barry White soundtrack. Jeff stood there panicked. “I’m scared that if I press one more button a sex swing’s going to descend from the ceiling.”

“It’s fine, just leave it,” said Annie, curling onto her side. Folding one arm underneath her head, she frowned when she realized Jeff was clumsily lowering himself to the ground to lie next to her. “What are you doing?”

“You mean I’m _not_ rock climbing?” he teased, shifting around to get comfortable. “Wow, am I embarrassed right now.”

She rolled her eyes. “Just because I agreed to hang back doesn’t mean I’m still not annoyed with you, Jeff.”

“I know,” he acknowledged. “But I really want to address the veto elephant in the room.”

“See, by my calculation there’s only one Dumbo in here and he’s distinctly non-elephant shaped.”

Jeff rolled onto his side to face her. “Annie.”

Exhaling wearily, Annie untucked the card from her blouse and placed it between them on the rug. Without looking she read the question aloud, the words echoing in her memory. “Going to the chapel, wedding bells in the air – what vows would be recited between this groovy pair?” Annie glanced across at Jeff, who remained quiet. “Anytime you want to start this ‘addressing’ thing is fine by me.”

He gave her a small smile. “Well, first of all, I’m sorry if I made you feel like crap. It wasn’t my intention.”

“OK,” she responded carefully, tracing her finger around one of the leopard spots. “Go on.”

“It’s just, that was a really loaded question.”

“Because you’re a commitment-phobe.”

“Yeah, because… wait, what?” he sputtered. “That’s why you thought I vetoed?”

“What other reason is there?” she shrugged. “You may have come a long way from ‘season one Jeff’ as Abed would say, but there’s still bits of the old you lingering about.” Annie smiled ruefully. “And deep down I get it. That’s just who you are. But where was the harm in playing along for fun?”

“The harm,” he began, propping his head up on his hand, “starts with our nosy study group, and ends with our nosy study group.”

Her brow crinkled. “What do you mean?”

“Annie, you saw what they were like tonight. We kept getting sent to the naughty corner by Shirley for interacting!” He snorted out a laugh. “And if you haven’t noticed, Pierce has set us up in his Boogie Nights den like a demented fairy godfather. Doesn’t that drive you crazy?”

“It does actually,” she quietly admitted. “Sometimes it’s like we can’t breathe near each other without getting hassled.”

He nodded. “So when that question came up I just knew those five idiots would have a field day with it. Loveable idiots,” he amended. “But idiots all the same.”

Letting that thought settle in, Annie buried her face in her hand. “Oh my God, could you imagine,” she moaned. “Shirley _alone_ would have set the tone.”

“Abed would have listed his favorite TV weddings,” added Jeff.

“There would’ve been some crass, misinformed comment from Pierce about not wearing white,” said Annie, blushing slightly. “Britta chiming in that the bride should wear whatever she wanted.”

Jeff chuckled. “Then Troy would go on about us practically being joined together like magnets anyway and finish off with some random Olsen twins comparison.”

“Magnets, pfft,” scoffed Annie. “Like you said, they’re loveable idiots.”

“Exactly. No idea what they’re talking about.”

Annie and Jeff smiled at one another while Barry White’s voice reverberated around them (“ _Livin’ in ecstasy when you lay down next to me…_ ”). “Wow,” said Jeff. “They’re... oddly convenient lyrics.” Feeling self-conscious, they both turned onto their backs to stare up at the ceiling.

“So,” said Annie, playing with a loose thread on her skirt, “not a commitment-phobe thing then, huh?”

“Not this time,” Jeff replied. “And I don’t know. Maybe not any time soon either. Possibly.” He folded his hands behind his head. “Baby steps seem to be the way to go.” Hearing Annie chuckle softly, Jeff smiled to himself. “Gee, thanks for the encouragement,” he teased.

“I’m sorry,” said Annie, laughingly. “It’s just, honesty hour with Jeff Winger. Who would have thought?”

“True.” He put on a bad radio announcer’s voice. “Honesty hour on 103.7 Greendale FM, brought to you by alcohol and my enormous therapist bill.”

“Well whatever it is, it’s good.”

“Thanks.”

Annie tapped her feet in time to the music. “Jeff?”

“Hmm?”

“In the spirit of honesty hour…”

“OK, I’ll admit it. I _do_ have Taylor Swift songs on my iPod,” he jokingly confessed. “She just, like, really understands my boy trouble.”

“Preaching to the choir,” she said with a smile. “No, what I was going to say was, in the spirit of honesty hour… what do you think your answer might have been? Y’know,” she licked her lips nervously. “To the veto question.” 

He swallowed roughly, cringing at how loud it sounded. “That’s a tough one. It’s not something you really want to ruin, is it.”

“As long as you don’t start with, ‘Webster’s dictionary defines…’ I’m sure you’ll be alright.”

Jeff heard the teasing in her voice and relaxed. “Good advice.”

“I guess if I were thinking about vows I’d say something about how cool it was to be sharing the day with my best friend,” said Annie, turning her head to look at Jeff. “And that I’d promise to always buy your favorite hair product, even if that meant re-mortgaging the house.” She smirked as he twisted around to face her, pretending to be offended.

“Well I’d promise to always have a supply of purple pens, just in case of Hulk-smash emergencies.” He propped his head up with his hand again while Annie mirrored his movement. 

“I’d promise to tolerate your relationship with the other important thing in your life.” She giggled when Jeff appeared baffled. “Your phone.”

“In that case, I promise to tolerate the world’s supply of mismatched cushions you’d no doubt want on the bed.” She poked her tongue out at him. “Seriously, though, how many does one person need? Is it like the ark, except you’re saving two of every pillow?”

“Hey, if you knew how comfy my bed was, you wouldn’t be complaining.”

“Maybe I’ll have to find out one day,” he said, enjoying the way her face tinged with pink.

Emboldened by the wine, Annie scooted closer to him. “Maybe you will.”

They gazed at one another before Jeff reached out to smooth a strand of hair behind her ear. “I guess too there’d be something in there about always making sure you felt safe and protected.”

“Same,” she said softly, leaning into his hand. “I am black belt in karate after all,” she added, eyes twinkling in mischief.

“I don’t know about you, but they sound like pretty awesome vows to me.”

“Agreed. But there’s just one thing you’re forgetting.”

“What’s that?”

She tilted up her head. “You may now kiss the bride.”

Grinning, Jeff closed the space between them and met her lips with his, kissing her slowly at first then drawing her body close as their kisses became more fevered. Caught in the moment, Annie pushed Jeff back so she was lying half across his chest, one leg hooked around his. “Black belt kung-fu moves,” Jeff murmured against her mouth. “Completely unfair.” 

Annie laughed. “I’m sure you’ll survive,” she replied, before sighing in pleasure as Jeff traced his lips down her neck, lingering on her pulse. Running her hands through his hair, she pouted when he stilled his actions but soon realized why when she heard voices echo down the hall. She lifted her head to look at him, smiling regretfully. “I kind of forgot where we were for a second.”

He ran his palm across her back. “Same.” The bass of a new Barry White song suddenly kicked in, making them burst into laughter. “OK, _now_ I remember.”

“The lighting, the fancy rug. I think we’re one step away from a Mills and Boon front cover.” Annie felt Jeff’s chest rumbling against hers as they continued to chuckle.

“Ay-bed,” Pierce’s voice rang out. “You never said who the other two speech-makers were on the list before me.”

“Coach Taylor, Friday Night Lights,” Abed’s voice replied, matter-of-factly. “And sober Jeff.”

Annie reluctantly sat up as Jeff did the same. “We better quit while we’re ahead before we get an unwanted audience.”

“Webster’s dictionary defines loveable idiots as…” Jeff laughed as Annie whacked his knee. “Here, let me help you up. And by help you I mean can you help me, because I think my spine has broken lying down here.”

Holding onto each other’s arms, they managed to stand up without too much distress. Smoothing down her hair, Annie smiled coyly at him as he rubbed his lower back. “Next time maybe you should try lay on some mismatched pillows. I hear that’s good.”

“Oh really?” he said playfully. “Do you know someone who could help me with that?”

She grinned. “I’ll keep you posted.”

_End_


End file.
